Death's Silence
by albinoraven666
Summary: Ingrid is older and has a new job as a crime investigater. A new case has her puzzled and she calls inher old partner, Filmore, for help. With the sly couple outmaster this master criminal?
1. Chapter 1

**Wednesday/October 1st/year2004/6:53pm**

"Agent Third," sounded a booming voice from outside Ingrid Third's office. A large man opened the door and entered. He was tall, but it did not make up for his large waste line. He had a black bristly mustache with hair to match it and spectacles that balanced on the bridge of his nose. He was quite a character with an interesting mind. There was a lot misunderstood about him. "There's a case up for grabs. You interested?"

Swiftly, a leather chair swung around revealing the older and beautiful Ingrid Third. She had grown up since her job in the X Middle School Safety Patrol, and had matured nicely. She still had her dangerously daring green eyes and her short, raven colored hair, but she was taller. She was thin, and had all the right curves in all the right places. It was unknown to most why she opted on crime investigation instead of fashion, but everyone she worked with knew she had a knack for solving the tough cases and wouldn't choose any other career even if it meant saving her life. She hadn't failed to solve one case yet and she wasn't about to let a single case offered to her go. "Do I even have to answer?" She asked, a playful smirk telling him her answer.

"No, I guess I shouldn't even bother asking anymore." He said with a sigh, scratching the top of his head with his chubby fingers. "I have to tell you Third this ones a hard one. Three dead bodies, blood completely drained no evidence that actually points us in the direction of a killer."

"Hmm… What about witnesses?" She asked, preparing her bag, getting ready to head over to the crime scene. She was packing all sorts of strange things, tools for taking DNA samples, fingerprints, and bags for collecting evidence. She also packed a camera even though it wasn't necessary for her aid, having a photographic memory, but she needed to provide pictures to her boss, Mr. Rodgerson. Though she could memories every piece of evidence with no difficulty she kept all her case files on her laptop. She also used her miniature black laptop for research.

"A few said they saw a truck park there over night but no screams or anything that would help us out. They didn't even see who walked out of the truck." Mr. Rodgerson said.

Ingrid looked up with slight frustration; this was going to be difficult. "What about suspects?" She asked her eyes back on her packing. "I'm going to need a list of the victim's enemies and so on."

"You can get that yourself, Third. I'm the boss here, not you; I'm not expected to provide you with information. You provide the information to me." He said firmly. Ingrid often got carried away with big cases.

Ingrid rolled her eyes slightly and smirked. "Sorry Rodge." She said, picking up her bag and walking out of her office door.

Mr. Rodgerson's eyes narrowed. "It's Rodgerson, Third." He said, fallowing her, having difficulty keeping up with her naturally fast walking pace. "Not Rodge, Rodgy, or Rodger. It's just Rodgerson!"

Ingrid rolled her eyes again as she walked out to her car, unlocking it with a quick click of the key fob. "Sorry Mr. **Rodgerson.**" She mumbled, chucking her bag into the backseat as she climbed into the front one. She put the key of her black corvette convertible in the ignition and started up the car. "I'll be back late most likely. The investigating might take some time and then there are those witnesses, and possible suspects. Yeah….. I estimate I'll be back around twelve tonight. And then I'll most likely be up all night again….Hmm… I need a vacation sometime in the near future…"

"We'll see." He said in a joking matter as she pulled her seatbelt over her chest. "It all depends on whether you can solve this case."

Ingrid gave him a smirk. "Come on Rodgy, have I ever let you down?" She asked, closing her door and setting the care in drive. Slowly she came out of her parking spot and then sped away to reach the crime scene.

"It's Mr. Rodgerson!" He yelled again, shaking his fist in the air as her car disappeared into the crowded streets of San Francisco.

**Wednesday/October 1st/year 2004/7:30pm**

The streets were crowded with bystanders as Agent Ingrid Third pulled up to what looked like an old trailer park. There were the sound of sirens blaring and the noisy crowd watching was adding to the noise. Ingrid parked her car and stepped out of it, locking the door the moment it shut. Her green eyes looked around. She didn't like it when crowds gathered. They were always such a problem because they start rumors and sometimes acted irresponsibly. Swiftly, Ingrid walked to an area marked off by caution tape. She entered and instantly had to show her badge to the officers. "Agent Third, San Francisco Crime Investigator." She said quickly, she had become so use to saying it, it was a habit. "Would you please show me the bodies?"

The officer nodded and began to enter the trailer with her. "A very strange case this one. Three bodies but not a trace of evidence." He said, taking her to the living room where the bodies still remained. "We were told not to touch the bodies until you took a look at them."

"Yes, sometimes it helps if the bodies weren't moved. Even the way they land when they fall or where the killer placed them can be important evidence." She said, kneeling next to the young female. Slowly she moved on to the next victim, an older male, at lease in his forties. Next was an older female, thirty-seven or so. They all seemed similar. "Are these three in the same family?"

"Yes." Said the officer, kneeling next to her. "We have discovered the younger one is the daughter of the two older. Neighbors said she doesn't live here anymore but came to visit."

"What a horrible family reunion." She muttered, seeing the officer nod in agreement out of the corner of her eye. She checked over the bodies once more. They were all laying face down, but that wasn't the weird thing. Of course they were drained of all their blood, but they were all also cut in the same place, the throat. She took out a camera and took photos of the wounds. She even tried to draw blood but it wasn't possible, they had been drained of **all **there blood.

**Wednesday/October 1st/year 2004/9:30pm**

An hour or two had past and Ingrid was still examining the bodies, the cop had left her alone long before. She had discovered, from the cuts on the neck, that the cuts were made by a butterfly knife, a knife with two handles and one very sharp blade. The research took a while but it wasn't going to Slow Ingrid down. She always carried her laptop computer for research. She stood up and decided it was time to leave the bodies and investigate the house. She looked around the room, the living room was growing dark as the sun ended it's routinely dive beneath the horizon. Ingrid turned on a light and began checking the place for unusual fingerprints, footprints, and strange hairs, but it came up clean. There was something she wasn't catching, there had to be. How could such a hideous crime leave no evidence? "….Drat…" She mumbled and she leaned against a wall. Her eyes began scanning the room.

Suddenly, a loud crack came from behind her, the wall was giving in. Startled by the sudden noise, Ingrid jumped back and quickly turned around. There was a piece of the wall that seemed to be loosely sitting with the rest of the wall, like a puzzle piece. "What the…." She took out her pocket knife and stabbed the wall, pulling the piece out. Slowly she peered into the hole, taking a flashlight out of her bag and shining it into the crevice. A knife was pinned inside the drywall, holding up what looked like a pure white envelope. Pulling on some white latex gloves she removed the knife and the note.

First, she examined the envelope and knife, they were perfectly clean. She tested it for fingerprints but there were none. Gently brushing off the powder from her test she flipped the envelope over. There was a red wax holding the envelope shut, the person who left it had cleverly prevented licking the envelope shut to prevent a DNA test of saliva. But there was something different about the wax that was sealing it. It was a very dark red and had a more crusty texture than a soft waxy one. She decided to take it back and examine it before opening it. After checking the rest of the house with excruciating detail she was ready to leave.

As she walked outside there were still emergency vehicles out, but no civilians. This made her leave much easier for she didn't have to bother to stop and answer to news reporters. She glanced at her bag as she approached the car. Her insides were turning; she wanted to read the letter so badly. It was as if her curiosity was eating at her soul. "Oh, what the heck." She mumbled, pulling her latex gloves back on and taking out the letter. She opened it carefully, making sure not to crack the wax or rip the paper. She pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper with what looked like red colored ink. Slowly she began to read the letter.

_Dear Officer Third, _

_Yes, I know it's you. I know you will be the one reading this letter first. I imagine it must be very startling to see your name in this letter. How daunting it must be to know that the murderer who killed that stupid family knows your name… Spooky isn't it? One of your make questions buzzing through your intelligent cranium right now may be 'how did this individual know I was going to get this case?'…. Just call it a hunch; they always assign the spooky cases to you. _

_By the way, don't bother checking this letter for fingerprints; I wear latex gloves when I work, just as you do. Also, don't try tracing the ink either, you'll find when you do that you'll just end up at square one. _

_I'm keeping a close eye on you Officer Third, I have been for some time, longer than you could ever possibly imagine. Where ever you go to do research I'll know you'll be there. If you ask for help, I'll have bios on your helpers instantly. I have my resources Ingrid, there is nothing I can not do, no situation I can not find a way out of, no mystery I can leave unturned. Don't ask how I know things, I wouldn't tell you… Don't ask why, that's a stupid question everyone asks… so let's just leave this topic at that…_

_I will strike again Ingrid, but don't expect to find out when or where. I've watched you work; I know you don't give in easily, well, neither do I. if you still want to pursue me, I'm up to the challenge, but don't expect it t be easy. I have the intelligence of a computer and the silence of a panther in hunt, I doubt even you will be able to solve this case and find me… If you do, however, manage to find out who I am, or where to capture me don't expect me to back down easily… Like the worker bee, if I am threatened I will strike. If I feel at all threatened by you, Ingrid, I will hunt you down and dispose of you, permanently. _

_-Your Humble Maniac,_

_Death's Silence_

Ingrid's eyes were wide by the time she had finished reading the letter, and her hand was trembling. She had received threats from people she searched for before but they were never this personal. Her green eyes glanced around nervously in the dark, thoughts raced and buzzed throughout her mind. If this person knew her as well as her or she said they did she could be in big trouble. The contents of the threatening letter perplexed her a bit to. The killer was allowing her to try to catch him or her without a hassle, but if she did run across evidence pointing to a certain individual she would most likely get killed herself. So some how she had to lead this person on and make him or her think she had no idea who he or she was. This was defiantly going to be a troublesome case, but she wasn't about to give in so easily.

Slowly she got into her car, inspecting it with paranoid thoughts. She knew it would be very unlikely that the killer stuck around to tamper with her car but she was going to be careful. She turned on her ignition and cautiously drove out of the trailer park, heading back to the office. She needed to inspect the letter and hopefully gain some information about her all knowing murderer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wednesday/October1st/year2004/10:23pm**

Ingrid had finally arrived back at her office building in the more "down town" region of San Francisco. She had climbed out of her car and was now quickly walking into the building. The office had a few people in it, but Mr. Rodgerson wasn't there. She unlocked the door to her office and entered, flicking the light on instantly. She took out a microscope, the same one she used back in middle school. It was old but she thought of it as more of a good luck object, and it was still in decent working order so why not use it?

Carefully, she picked off a piece of the crumbly wax and put it under the scope. After adjusting the old lenses and looking into it she instantly knew what it was. Blood had been used and dried for the use of sealing this letter, no mistake. She knew what blood cells looked like, dead or alive. Jotting down some notes on a pad of paper she moved on to the letter itself. Carefully, with a magnifying glass and a small scalpel she scratched off some of the dried, red ink and put it under the microscope in place of the blood wax. Ingrid instantly recognized the substance; it was the same as the wax. Death's Silence had used blood for ink, most likely with the help of a fine point, quill pen. Now she knew what her killer meant when he or she wrote about being back at square one. This blood had most likely come from the victims.

After writing more notes she studied the handwriting itself. It was neat and very beautiful, as if written by the wind. There were no mistakes or errors in the handwriting the only change in thickness was when it looked like it needed more ink, which only encouraged her superstition of the use of a quill pen. Another thing she noticed was it was not lined paper, yet the writing was in perfectly strait lines. With handwriting of angels and no sloppy letters Ingrid could tell she was dealing with not only a genius, but an artist.

Gently placing the letter to the side she took out another bag. Without any blood to draw from the victims she was forced to take flesh samples instead. The bags were clearly marked whose flesh belonged to whom, she had found out the names from a neighbor. She stood up; she would need the use of the science lab in the basement to analyze the flesh. To see if her suspensions were correct she also took the blood ink and wax she had looked at under her microscope. Carefully she walked out of the room and down to the basement where she would begin her analysis.

**Wednesday/October1st/year2004/11:00pm**

The DNA analysis had taken longer then she would have hoped but at least she found out what she already knew. The blood from the ink and wax was from the same family murdered that day. But for the ink to have dried so quickly would have meant for the operation to be done in early morning or possibly the evening before. Ingrid sat in a lab chair and sighed. With no traceable ink, and handwriting that she also couldn't trace she had fond herself at a dead end. She tapped her nails on the platinum table, making an echoing tapping. "…..I didn't expect it to be this hard…." She said to herself, cleaning up her stuff. "I can't do this on my own…."

Slowly she cleaned up and walked back up to her office. This was a case too complicated for one investigator, but she didn't take to likely to human companionship. The only person she ever trusted to work side by side with her was her old friend, Cornelius Fillmore. He was friends with her all the way up to the end of college, but then they broke apart. They had fallen into a relationship with each other that ended badly. Ever since their breakup they had never talked to let alone seen each other. So, as she sat in her office chair, staring at Fillmore's phone number, she began to wonder whether asking him was such a good idea. She had never really gotten over him, but he most likely hated her, maybe it would be best to find a different person. But who else could understand a case the way she did?

Swallowing up her pride and fear she dialed the number into her phone. Her hear raced as she heard the phone ring, the emotionless tone of anticipation. She actually felt like hanging up right then but something kept her attacked to the line. Suddenly, there was a click on the other side of the line, fallowed by a deep and soothing voice. "Hello?"

Her voice hesitated at first but soon enough she got her courage. "Fillmore," she said finally, her voice confident. She hesitated again when she was going to announce her name. She finally gained courage again but before being able continuing but he cut her off.

"Ingrid… I haven't heard from you for a while…" His voice sounded just as falsely confident as hers. There was a long pause before she heard his voice again. "…. It's late Ingrid, you woke me, is something wrong?"

"……I'm sorry for waking you." She said first, gaining more confidence. Fillmore's voice sounded firm and slightly cold, she didn't expect this to go perfectly but then again she didn't expect him to act rudely. It wasn't like him to talk to people like that, but what did she know, it had been a year since she last heard from him; he most likely had changed. "Nothing is really wrong with me really, but I need some help with this one case. I'm sure you heard about the murder in the trailer park. The killer is a genius and hasn't left me any clues or leads to where he or she might be hiding. All I know is this person calls itself Death's Silence."

There was an even longer pause. Ingrid was about to ask if he was still there but he talked again as if knowing she was about to do so. "Well, well, Officer Third, the solo agent, asking someone else for help." He said in kind of crude voice. A small chuckle could be heard from him. "And me, your ex boyfriend, of all people. Aren't there people in that building able to help you, or is this just some way to raise my hopes and crush them again?"

She paused and looked at the ground; she was not expecting this at all. Fillmore use to be so eager to take any case no matter who he was forced to work with. And then he made the assumption that it was her fault they parted. She remembered what happened, some jealous guy friend of hers had framed her to make it look like she had cheated on Fillmore, but no matter how much she promised and pleaded, Fillmore wouldn't believe her side of the story. "…..Fillmore, what happened between us was your fault. I told you what happened, and I expected you to trust my word, but I guess the word of a guy who you didn't even know is more truthful than my own." After that she hung up the phone, and wheeled her chair to the window. There were tears in her eyes but she would not let them fall.

Suddenly the phone rang in her office making her jump slightly. She usually wasn't so jumpy but recent events had upset her a bit. She looked at the caller ID. It was calling from Fillmore's home. She reached for the phone, hesitating slightly. She let out a sigh before picking up the phone. "What do you want?" She asked in a cold and harsh voice.

A voice spoke but it wasn't Fillmore's. "_What's with the hostility?_" asked a strange voice with a small chuckle at the end. It was a monotone voice, obviously not Fillmore's, it was to emotionless to be Fillmore's. She had a horrible feeling who she knew who she was talking to. "_Your stunned silence tells me you know who you're talking to…. But then what could I expect from you Ingrid? _"

"Where is Fillmore, what are you doing at his house!" She demanded, standing up out of her chair, her voice trembling. She was on her cell phone so she quickly ran from her desk to her car.

"_I told you Ingrid…. I know who you're in contact with… Your little discussion with your ex gave me enough time to find his house, it's a good thing he doesn't live to far, isn't it?_" The voice asked. Ingrid could tell that now her culprit was a male but that really didn't help her with much. As she climbed into her car and started the engine he spoke again. "_Don't bother coming here Ingrid, I'll be gone by the time you get here, and there will be no evidence, I promise you that…._" There was a click on the other line.

"Hello!" Demanded Ingrid but there was no reply. He had hung up on her. Fear ran through her veins. Had he gotten Fillmore, would she arrive there to find him dead? No, Fillmore wasn't that easy to get rid of. He was too stubborn to die. She only hoped she was right.

**Thursday/October2nd/year2004/12:01am **

She arrived at Fillmore's house after a while; traffic had been a bit dense on the way delaying her arrival time. She only hoped her delay didn't mean Fillmore's death. The front door was left open so she rushed right in, not bothering to finger print check the door, Fillmore's life meant more to her than evidence. "Fillmore!" She called, her voice echoing through the house. She rarely ever called him by his first name but she was desperate. "Cornelius!"

She was getting desperate now; her heart was pounding as her voice just echoed on with no reply. "Fillmore, come on!" She yelled, running up the stairs after checking the rooms downstairs. As she reached the top she let out a small jump, there was a trail of blood leading into a room, as she reached the room she saw it was Fillmore's bedroom, and sprawled on the carpet was the bleeding Fillmore, clearly unconscious. "No…"

She rushed to him and checked for a pulse, it was slight but it was there, beating weakly from blood loss. "He's alive…" She muttered with a sigh of relief, wiping a tear from her cheek. Her voice didn't sound very reassuring, not even to herself. She was worried. Carefully, she flipped Fillmore over onto his back and looked for a wound. He had a slash on his left shoulder and had been knocked unconscious with a blunt object. The wounds didn't seem fatal but if he lost enough blood she knew it would be. She picked up her cell phone and called 9-1-1. After telling them where she was she sat there and waited, feeling very upset and afraid.

As she waited she rested Fillmore's head on her lap. His hair was longer now, about to his ears, and they were in dread locks. It was a very good look for him. Ingrid frowned, checking his pulse again, it was still there. Soon she heard sirens outside; she glanced to the window where she could see the glow of flashing lights. They had gotten to them quickly; this relived her greatly for if she would have lost Fillmore after saying such harsh things to him she would have never been able to forgive herself… "You'll be ok now…." She said to his unconscious body, gently running a finger over his cheek and up to his hair.

Fillmore had changed quite a lot in the years; he no longer was the short little guy he used to be. He replaced his glasses with contacts so his brown eyes were usually visible. Suddenly, his eye lids twitched and he let out a small groan as he began to stir. He opened his eyes and looked around, his eyes eventually meeting Ingrid's. "…Ingrid?" He was slightly stunned to see her, his head on her lap.

Her face instantly brightened up, her green eyes gleaming with relief. "I'm glad you woke up…" She said with a small smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears. "You gave me quite a scare, you know?"

He slowly began to sit up, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "Sorry…" He said in a bit of a muffled voice. "It was five minuets after I got off the phone with you… I heard something downstairs so I went to check it out. Suddenly, there was a knife flying at me, I moved but it grazed my shoulder a bit. I ran upstairs; I had hoped to reach the fire escape. I didn't get a good look at my attacker, all I know was it was a male figure completely covered in black clothing. He caught up to me really quickly and knocked me out…. I don't even know what he used…."

Ingrid looked around the room and stood up, slowly helping Fillmore up. She walked to where what looked like a piece of piping was laying on the ground. "You're really lucky if this was the weapon…" She said, putting on latex gloves and picking up the pipe. "This could have caused serious damage…."

"….Maybe he didn't want me dead, but merely hurt…" Fillmore said, still rubbing the back of his head painfully. "How did you know to come?"

"He called me from your phone…" She said, walking over to the phone in Fillmore's room that was still left off the cradle. "He's the one I'm after, the one who killed the family on the news… The one who leaves no evidence… He must have traced my call when I called you… He said he would find out everything eventually, but I had no idea he had bugged my phones."

"…Oh, so he came after me because you asked for my help…. Nice…" He said in a sarcastic voice. He caught Ingrid's glare and dropped the attitude. He sat down on the bed as medics came in from the door. They began to fuss over him but he continued talking to Ingrid as if they weren't there. "So you're dealing with a genius, what do you know about him?"

"He calls himself Death's Silence, he's male, and he uses his victim's blood to write letters…" She said with slight repulsion. She shook her head as Fillmore tried to resist being taken to the ambulance. "Fillmore, you really should go to the hospital. You could have a concussion or something."

Fillmore sighed and gave in. "Whatever…." He mumbled, going with them. "I'd better see you at the hospital, Ingrid. We really need to talk." And with that he walked away with the medics, grumbling in slight irritation.

Ingrid sighed and looked around his house. "I'll be there once I'm done investigating…" She said to him before taking out her supplies and beginning her search…

**Thursday/October2nd/year2004/1:10am **

It wasn't long before Ingrid was back on the road headed towards the hospital. Once again there was no noticeable evidence, but she did take the weapon and the phones in the house for investigation. She had called up her boss to fill him in on what's been going on and now she was alone in her quiet car. It was late and she was tired, but she was use to not getting much sleep. To her the case was much more important than her own health. "…I really need a vacation…" She muttered to herself as she stopped at a red light, rubbing her forehead temples with her fingers.

Suddenly, the phone rang making her jump a bit and forcing her to pay more attention to the world around her. She looked at the caller ID; it read **unknown name, unknown number.** With a curiously quirked brow she picked up the phone, she had a sneaky suspicion about who was on the other line. She pressed the talk button and quickly held the phone to her ear. "Officer Third…"

"_Well, well, **officer** Third, you defiantly have a habit of defying my warnings_." The dark voice said on the other line. "_I almost killed Cornelius once already, and yet you're still going to go see him and seek out his help. How stupidly daring."_

"If you're as witty as you say you are the help of another person shouldn't help in the slightest." She said cleverly. "If your so impossible to find or catch why should one other person feel threatening to you? Do you feel threatened, Death's Silence?"

"_You've already caused your friend pain, don't provoke me into hurting him even more._" The voice said angrily, her comment had obviously caught him off guard. Suddenly, he hung up, leaving a soulless ringing on the other line.

Ingrid hung up the phone with a satisfied smirk. "..I think I made him angry…" She muttered to herself, pulling into the parking lot of the hospital. Once again she soon found herself climbing out of her car and locking it, only to walk up to another building. She entered the hospital doors and went to the emergency room receptionist. "I'm looking for a Cornelius Fillmore; I need to speak with him."

The pointed nose woman, with owl like glasses, pointed her down the hall. "Room 177, down the hall and to the left." She said in a frog like voice, only to return to her paper work.

Ingrid shrugged and walked down the hall, her black coat swishing as she walked. She entered the room in which she was instructed and saw, just as the lady told her, Fillmore. "Hey, how's your head and shoulder?" She asked, sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed.

He looked at her a smiled slightly. "Fine, I guess." He mumbled, looking at the wall opposite his bed. "They're making me stay over night to make sure nothing unusual develops. So did you find anything out about your mysterious killer?"\

"No, I need to run tests on your phones and the weapon though." She said with a slight smirk. "I did get a call from him though on the way here. I kind of got smart with him; I think I made him angry."

"That wasn't too smart Ingrid, who knows what he might do now." Fillmore warned, sitting up and facing her. "There must be something your over looking, some evidence your not catching. This psycho acts like he wants to get caught, that's why he taunts you, but he doesn't, and that's why he leaves nothing to trace him by. But someone can't commit a murder without at lease some evidence. There must be something…"

"I've checked everything, I can't even trace where he makes his calls from. He either uses someone else phone, yours in this case, or a pay phone." She explained to him, her hands cupped together. "He moves around a lot, so I bet he's either homeless or has friends helping him. He's very silent and sly when working, so my guess he isn't very tall and is rather thin. And he uses blood in his ink when writing, so my guess he's a crazed artist, so why is he bothering me? That's the only thing I don't understand…"

Fillmore looked up at her, an eye brow quirked up slightly. "Maybe those victims aren't his main target, if he's taunting you, and setting you up with phony evidence and so on, his real target could be you." He said very seriously. "Ingrid, you're an agent who catches the bad guys when the officers can't find them, you have a lot of enemies."

Ingrid had never thought of that before. She had gotten millions of threats before but they were always so closed minded and stupid. She had never been the target of a masterminded killer. "I don't know, Fillmore… I don't feel threatened; I don't feel like I'm being stalked, I just feel like I've been challenged." She explained. She didn't feel afraid at all, the only moment she felt fear was when she heard the killer's voice on Fillmore's phone. "I don't know, Fillmore. I feel lost, that's why I asked you for help, but now I wish I hadn't even involved you in this…"

"Well, I can't back out now, can I?" He said with a daring smile. "You brought me into this mess, Officer Third, now the only way out is to help you catch this Death's Silence, guy. Just like old times, eh?"

Ingrid let out a surprised smile. "Yes, just like old times…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Friday/October3rd/year2004/9:04am **

It was later in the morning and Ingrid was still in the hospital. Fillmore was still asleep and Ingrid was typing on her laptop, trying to piece together the little evidence she had on Death's Silence. She had been analyzing data and researching all night, she didn't get one minuet of sleep. She rubbed her eyelids with her fingers before continuing her typing; the lack of sleep was finally catching up to her. She was getting frustrated and tired now, nothing was piecing together, and there wasn't a single lead Ingrid could use. Maybe she had finally met her maker.

"Have slept at all, Miss?" asked a nurse as she came in to check on the sleeping Fillmore. She was a short chubby woman with curly blonde hair, but she had a pretty face and looked like quite a caring lady.

"No, I've been very busy." She said with a small smile. "I'll try to sleep later tonight." Though she said that she doubted she'd be able to even if she wasn't busy. There was way too much on her mind for her to sleep. What if she was to fall asleep and something important happened and she missed it? She couldn't let that happen, not when she had been warned by her killer that he would strike again some time soon.

"Please do, Miss." Said the nurse, about to leave the room with worried eyes. "Lack of sleep can cause health problems." And with that she hesitantly left the room, as if unsure whether it was ok to leave her alone.

Ingrid shrugged and went back to her fast and silent typing. She would admit she was getting drowsy after going a few days without sleep, but it wasn't so bad, she kept herself occupied and drank a lot of caffeinated beverages. She heard Fillmore stir under his hospital bedcovers causing her to glance up at him. He was waking now, his eyes opened as he stretched. "Good morning…" She said quietly.

"Is it?" He asked, sitting up in his hospital bed. "I think I'm finally feeling the effects of that damn pipe. My head is killing me…."

She rolled her eyes slightly at his instant complaint. "It's good to talk to you too…" She murmured, closing her laptop and sliding it in her bag. "The doctor has proscribed you a painkilling medicine, it should help with the pain once you start taking it. They said your fine, for the most part, and can go home early if you feel up to it. They also suggest more bed rest; I think you should rest more too."

"What are you my mother?" He asked, kicking his legs out from under the covers, reveling his hospital gown. It was white with blue stripes all over it. "I can't wait to get out of these inhuman clothes and get back into my own. And as for bed rest…" He paused and glanced at the watch. "I've slept enough… But it doesn't look like you have."

Ingrid shook her head and smiled slightly at him. "I'm fine; I promise I'll get some sleep tonight." She said, chucking his clothes at him. "Get dressed, we can leave when ever you're ready, we just need to check you out in the main office." She stood up; her bag slumped over her shoulder as she went to leave the room. She exited the room, her pace not as swift as it usually is, and shut the door behind her, slumping against a wall as she waited for Fillmore to come out.

About ten minuets later he came out, his hair neat once again and wearing his usual wear of a decent looking T-shirt and beige pants. He rubbed the back of his head and looked at her. "So where are the painkillers?" He asked his voice a bit softer now and not as rude. "My head is killing me…"

"We have to go to the pharmacy." She said, walking with him to the main office of the emergency center to sign him out. "We'll drive to one on the way back to your house."

"We can't go back to my house." He said his voice serious. "That killer of yours has gotten in there with no problems once, which means he could do it again. There is no way I'm going back into that house until this maniac is caught. I'll stick with you."

"Why?" She asked, her voce serious too, her eyes looking at him. It was only a few hours ago they had an argument over the phone, and suddenly he's asking to tag along with her.

"Well, I am helping you with this case aren't I?" He said, giving her a look before smirking. "Also, if you figure you're not his target, it's a pretty safe bet that you're the one I should hang around."

"Oh…. So I'm your shield." She said, her spirits dampening a bit. She glanced at the ground before going into the main office s Fillmore could check out. With a sigh she waited for him outside the hospital, in her car. She was hoping his company would be a bit less cold, but what could she expect. Once Fillmore's mind believed something it took a miracle to change his mind. He was as stubborn as a mule.

It wasn't long before Fillmore was in the passenger seat next to her, checking out her car. "Nice ride, can I drive?" He asked, looking at her.

"No." She said coldly and firmly, looking at him. "Seatbelt, please."

Fillmore gave her a look of irritation. "Ingrid, If you let me drive I'll put on my seatbelt."

She turned off the engine. "No, it's either you wear your seatbelt or I dump you off right here." She said firmly her eyes not at all playful. He had put her in such a foul mood; this wasn't the Fillmore she remembered. He uses to be very considerate of every law, even the click it or ticket law, but now he seemed to act like such a stubborn bad boy. She noticed a look of disbelief on his face; he didn't think she would actually kick him out of the car. "….. Get out Fillmore…"

"Alright, alright, it's on." He said, clicking the seatbelt over his chest. He gave her a quick glare before putting some sunglasses on and staring out the window. "So, tell me once again about this taunting maniac of yours. What do you think? What have you gathered so far?"

"Not a lot…" She admitted, letting out a small sigh as she watched the road. "The day I went to inspect the murder I didn't find any evidence. The only unusual thing was they had been drained of all there blood from a cut on there necks, all in the same places too, but it didn't click just yet why their blood had been drained. Then, by accident, I found a letter pinned inside the wall of the trailer, pinned to the wall with the weapon of murder. The letter was written in blood, the wax sealing the envelope was blood too, and the blood was from the young female victim, a girl by the name of Sarah Welsh."

She glanced and Fillmore who seemed to be staring out the window extremely silent. Though it didn't look like it he was obviously listening. She went back to watching the road and continued telling him everything she new. "The hand writing was very fine and not at all messy, I believe a quill pen was used, you can look at the letter when we get back to my office…" She stopped at a red light and turned right to where the pharmacy was placed. "He's a genius, Fillmore. It's like he knows what I'm thinking before I actually think it. Everything was so clean; there weren't any traces of fingerprints or hair, nothing I could use to track down this guy. He's and artist too, you can tell by his handwriting and the way he uses his words. He's like a phantom…"

Fillmore looked at her with a raised eye brow. "So, he's a genius, a maniac, and an artist…. That's all you've figured out…." He said with a sigh, getting out of the car when they parked in the parking lot. "What about how he looks, where he lives, what he does for work, or where he'll strike next. I mean come on, Ingrid, most criminals leave very small hints to where they will strike next!"

"All I know is he's a man, and from his accent I'm pretty sure he's American." She said, getting out of the car as well, the prescription sheet for Fillmore's pain killers. "He doesn't sound like a gangster, or the usual person you would expect to commit a crime. I've spoken to a lot of criminals once they were behind bars and none of them sounded as calm and normal as this guy. Even when he's angry his voice doesn't change much, it rose a little but otherwise stayed calm. I don't think I know this man even though he says he knows me. I don't remember his voice, or handwriting, or anything."

"But Ingrid, if he knew where you worked, where I lived, and your phone number he must know you." Fillmore said, walking into the pharmacy with her. "This guy knows everything about you, I wouldn't be surprised if he's somewhere close right now, stalking you amongst the shadows."

"But why stalk me?" She asked him, walking in through the automatic doors, walking to the counter and handing the doctors note to the pharmacist. "I mean, I'm sure it gives criminals a thrill to spook out the good guys, but what's there to gain? The closer this man gets to me the closer I get to solving this case… he's basically giving himself to me."

"But that's the thing, Ingrid, he's not." Fillmore said, leaning against a wall. "You haven't gotten at all closer to cracking this case. This guy is stalking you for a reason. Maybe he wants some type of vengeance, or maybe he's a guy who has a thing for you or something… Have you rejected any guys recently?"

Ingrid went silent and looked at the ground before looking back up at the pharmacist who handed her a small capsule of white pills. As she walked away she stopped at Fillmore's side, still looking at the ground. "….I haven't had anything to do with anyone since you broke up with me…." She said coldly, walking to the cashier to pay for the pills. She stopped and looked back at Fillmore who was now giving her a strange look. "These are yours; you can pay for them…" she tossed them to him before walking out to the car and waiting for him.

**Friday/October3rd/year2004/10:104am**

Ingrid glanced outside the window of her car, which she had rolled open and began to watch the crowds of people that walked passed. They were all talking as another group of people walked against the flow of there human like traffic. There were grumbles of complaints from people as they shoved passed but one stood out above the rest. "_…Move it you filth, I have places to go!_" it wasn't an angry voice, but it was irritated, the same tone she heard on her phone when talking to death's Silence.

With a surge of excitement she got out of the car and stared at the people. They had passed and ally way and the source of the voice had disappeared into it before she was able to get a look at his face. She ran to the ally way, shoved passed people, and ran into the dark lonely corridor. She caught a glimpse of a shadow at the far end of the alleyway. She smirked, the ally lead to a dead end. She approached the end and spoke out. "Officer Third, your under arrest." She announced firmly, holding up a gun and walking farther into the darkness.

She heard a shuffling noise and when she reached the brick wall no one was there/ her pulse rose as she looked around, up and down. There was no one. She turned her back to the wall and looked down the ally way from which she came. There was no way someone had gotten past her. Suddenly, she felt a hand, cold as ice clamp over her mouth, another hand holding what felt like a knife to her throat. "_Well, Officer Third, this is a surprise._" Said the cold voice she remembered from her bone chilling phone calls with her mysterious killer. "_I expected us to meet at some time but I never expected it to be so soon._"

Her heart skipped a beat several times as she glanced out of the corner of her eyes, hoping to see the face of her attacker. No such luck, he had her perfectly held so he couldn't bee seen except for his hands and arm. She looked at his hand over her mouth. He was a pale man, his skin fine and white. If it weren't for the knife at her neck she would have whipped around and disabled her attacker but she knew that wasn't an option right now. She did notice he wasn't wearing gloves this time though, obviously he had not planned there encounter. If she could get his fingers to touch some part of her clothes she would have his fingerprints. And even if he killed her someone else would have a lead to fallow. She shifted a bit so he'd release her mouth and she could talk. "What do you want from me, why do you keep bothering me…?"

"_What every man wants from a woman, I guess, but considering my temptations don't cloud my mind I will not succumb to such things…_" He said, his voice soothing and some what hypnotizing. She heard a small chuckle emit from his throat. "_If I were to assault you in such a matter it would end my fun._"

She had to keep him distracted so he would loosen up a bit. "Why would you end your fun?" She asked in a loathing matter. "You'd have your pleasure, what's too bad about that?"

"_Well, Ingrid, the assault would mean you'd see my face and know who I am, so id have to kill you afterward…_" He said with a small sigh, one of his fingers caressing her neck slightly. "_And that really would be quite a shame. It's fun to have you chasing after me. It makes me feel oh so good. Also, rape is a messy thing so id have to go through all the trouble of discarding your body properly, and who has the time for that? So, I'll let you chase me a bit more Ingrid… And then after I'm done with my homework I'll come after you, how's that?"_

She moved a bit so the finger stroking her neck slid ever so gently across the collar of her black shirt. "It sound's horrid!" She said to distract him. "I'll have you before that's even possible!"

She noticed that right after she said that he had released her and somehow vanished from behind her again. Ingrid looked around again, and then up. Up was the only way escape could have been possible. She saw a fire escape and pulled down the ladder. Slowly she moved up them to the first level. She heard the swishing sound of clothing and looked up just to see her attacker go up one more flight. She fallowed swiftly and looked down, she was about fifteen feet up now/ she glanced out of the alleyway and saw Fillmore looking around the car for her. Obviously he had noticed she wasn't there. "At least he knows I exist." She murmured softly to herself.

Suddenly there was a figure in front of her. It was him, Death's Silence. He was masked and it seemed he had quickly put some black leather gloves on. If only she could get one of those gloves. He looked at her, his dark eyes peering through the eye holes in the mask. "_Of course he notices you; it's a bit hard not to… _" He said in a soft voice that soon turned cold. "_But that's besides the point Ingrid… You've learnt quite a lot about me today Officer Third, too much I say…._"

Suddenly he had a hand at her neck, his other arm hanging lifelessly at his side. "_It's time to say goodbye Officer third._" He said, his voice sounding more sinister than ever as he backed her up to the railing of the fire escape. "_I do doubt this fall will kill you, but maybe it will do enough to show your place… You've become much to persistent…_" and with that he pushed her over the railing, letting her fall.

Ingrid managed to catch herself with her left hand, gripping to part of the railing. She let out a gasp as pain shot through her arm socket as her hold broke her fall. She saw him looking down at her now, shaking his head. He leaned over the rail and began to peal her fingers off the rail with his own. She fell, but was quick enough to grab onto his hand and slide the glove off of her as she fell to the cement below.

She heard a voice yell out her name as she hit the hard pavement, her vision going dark, her hand still gripping the black glove. Seconds later her world was completely black and her mind completely blank.

**Friday/October3rd/year2004/12:00pm**

"Ingrid!" Yelled a distant, yet familiar, voice from outside the endless void of her mind. The voice calling to her was slowly pulling her out of her endless darkness. "Ingrid, you've got to wake up!" once again the voice brought her closer until she could finally see some trace of earth, a blurry yet familiar setting.

She opened her eyes and looked up only to see Fillmore and the light of the sun as it reached the peek of its daily climb. "….What happened….Ahhhh…" She groaned as she sat up, her hand on her forehead as she squinted her eyes shut. Suddenly, it all hit her, everything that happened prior her fall. "Death's Silence! He was here and I was here and then we climbed and soon I found myself cornered and then-"

"Ingrid, slow down!" Fillmore interrupted, cutting off her sentence. "Not only are you talking faster than a cheetah runs your hurt. We can talk business talk later when you're completely conscious and ok."

"But Fillmore, I saw him! We need to go back to my office and look at…" She gasped and looked at her empty hand. The glove was gone. She looked around and saw it a few feet from her; how it got there she didn't know. "His glove, the inside of it must have his fingerprints on it…. We can finally unmask this mysterious creep and solve the case…"

"Ingrid, I understand this case is very important to you but you need to take better care of yourself." Fillmore said, his eyes actually worried for here instead of sarcastic and rude. "You haven't slept for days and you haven't eaten at all since I started helping you. And also to top that off you fell from a fire escape. Your not in good shape, you need to rest."

"No, we can't… Death's Silence knows I have enough evidence to lock him up for good now, so he will either kill his next victims sooner than expected or he'll come after us. He won't go down so easily, he'll do something…. We just have to be ready…" She said, trying to stand up but she felt her legs give in. She clasped back on to her knees. "God Damn it, why can't I stand!"

Fillmore helped her to her feet. "My guess is you're not all the way conscious." He said, helping her walk out to the car. "It's a bit hard to walk if your brain is still asleep. I know you feel awake but you could have a concussion."

She eventually got the feeling in her legs back and she could walk, still holding on to Fillmore's shoulder for balance. "He's going to do something, Fillmore…. I'm worried." She confessed, rummaging through her bag to find her keys, but she couldn't find them. "Where are-"

"Your keys?" Fillmore Interrupted, holding out his hand, her keys dangling from his fingers. "I'm afraid you're in no condition to drive, so I must take up the task." He gave her a playful smirk and helped her into the passenger seat.

She gave him the instructions to her office and then leaned against the window. Even though she had been unconscious for a long time she felt more tired then she had ever felt before. As she watched things zoom by from her window she felt her eye lids grow heavy. She tried to resist the cloud of sleepy darkness that washed over her, but soon she found herself succumbing to the temptation of her dreams and fell into a sweet dimension of darkness…


	4. Chapter 4

_When I printed out my last chapter I noticed a few mistakes. Just thought I let you know they were typos, like one of the times had a 4 at the end of it when it wasn't suppose to or something. Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this next chapter, I'll try to edit this one better._

**Saturday/October3rd/Year2004/9:47am **

When Ingrid arose it was the next morning and the sun was shining brightly through her office window. How she got in her office she didn't know, and as she stretched her arms upward and yawned she began to wonder what became of Fillmore. She realized she was curled up in her chair; Fillmore had obviously set her there so she would be comfortable. She was glad he let her sleep but at the same time she felt that horrid unawareness of what happened while she was asleep. "Fillmore?" She called out, curious to his ware bouts for he made it quite clear the other day that he wasn't going to return home.

Suddenly, Fillmore appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face. "Ahh, so you decided to join the living…" He said with a joking smile. "You were out cold yesterday, you must of either actually did some damage on that fall or you were really tired."

"I guess I really was tired." She said, letting out another yawn after politely covering her mouth. "I guess you found your way around here all right…. Did you touch the evidence at all?"

"No, I was to busy watching over you." He said honestly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. His eyes were suddenly concerned. "You were talking in your sleep, and broke out in a cold sweat. I tried to wake you but you wouldn't stir. I was actually worried."

"Well…Um… I'm glad to hear it. I mean, it's better then not worrying." She says, turning to hide the redness that had gathered on her cheeks. "We need to look at the evidence, the phone and pipe from your house, the glove I got. And if that doesn't have anything in it he defiantly touched the collar on my shirt… I'll check for fingerprints if you go the file room and get out all the files of people on the warning list. They all have fingerprints with them and we cans see if any match."

Fillmore nodded and went out of the room quietly to find the file room. He left very suddenly, maybe he felt just as awkward about his worry as she did. She picked up her bag and pulled out the sealed bags of the evidence she collected. She also took out some white powder and a soft brush to get ready to check the clues for Deaths Silence's Finger prints. As she pulled on her latex gloves she anticipated what she would find. She hoped nothing was clear and she would finally find something, but at the same time if she did find something what would her killer do to her?

She began to work, carefully powdering each object and dusting it away with her soft brush. She did the pipe first, after close inspection of the weapon she found nothing. She placed the pipe aside and began to work with the phone Deaths Silence had used. It turned up empty to. With a sigh she also put that aside. Then, with great anticipation she picked up the glove, her eyes inspecting it closely before powdering it. It was a fine black leather glove that was obviously tailored to make a perfect fit. It wouldn't have shocked her much to find out her case had made it himself. She gently turned the glove inside out to show its leather underneath. Her hopes raised, leather was so much easier to check for prints than fabric, if it had been cotton or wool it would have made her life much more difficult.

"Please have something…" She said as she began to coat the black leather with a fine white powder. As she gently began to brush the powder away she saw it, the remaining powder clinging to a very fine print. She had found a finger print of her genius killer. As she dusted more away she revealed several more fingerprints where he would usually use to grip. "Yes!"

Carefully, she placed tape over the prints and pulled them off one by one so she would have the prints on hand when it came to finding a match. He stuck them to black paper to make them more visible and went on to the last item. After closing her door and shutting the blinds on her windows she took off her shirt and set it on her desk. She found the collar piece where he had caressed her and began to gently powder at the fabric. After brushing away the extra dust she found the print, but it was broken up from the stretching of the fabric. When she squeezed the fabric together it matched the others from the glove, but it wasn't whole enough to be evidence so she began to dust off her shirt.

Suddenly, Fillmore entered without knocking, and she had stupidly forgotten to lock the door. "I got the Fi- Wow!" He stared at her. She only had a bra on without the shirt and he couldn't find it in his power to look away.

She let out a gasp and pulled the shirt to her chest. "Holy shit!" She exclaimed, instantly sliding off the chair to the floor so she desk hid her. Her heart was beating a thousand miles per hour. Fillmore had not only invaded her privacy and had a good look at her without her shirt on, he had also startled her. She was red in the face now and slightly upset. "Get out you pervert!"

"Ingrid I didn't mean to!" He said in his defense, obviously startled himself. He backed up to the door and had his hand on the doorknob. "I swear I didn't know, I was just coming in to give you the-"

Ingrid Squinted her eyes shut. "I said get out!" She yelled again, her voice more embarrassed then angry. She heard the shutting of the door and peered over her desk to see if he was gone. He was so she quickly pulled back on her shirt before more mayhem could happen. She then approached the door and looked at Fillmore who was red at the cheeks and waiting for her outside. She cleared her throat with slight hesitation and spoke. "You can come in now."

Fillmore, not pressing the matter onward, entered quietly. After Ingrid cleaned off her desk Fillmore set a father large pile of files containing people who were on San Francisco warning crime list. These were people who had either committed small crimes like shop lifting or loitering, seemed slightly suspicious to others, and failed to be considered a real case; some cases were a little to abstract to be considered a real crime. "Over two hundred files, this should be a fun afternoon." Fillmore said with a sigh. "I'm guessing you got he prints."

Ingrid smirked and held up the black piece f paper showing the five prints from the glove. "Sure did, we have to compare them to all the prints in these files. If we find a match we find out killer." She said with an excited smile. "Let's just hope this guy has committed a small crime or did something suspicious before."

Suddenly, Mr. Rodgerson came into the room. "I see your office is a mess, as usual." He said, instantly finding something to complain about. He looked at Fillmore. "Who's this?"

"Cornelius Fillmore." Ingrid said, looking over the pile of files on her desk. She smiled at him like she usually did. He was a big softy under his cold exterior, so all she had to do usually was win him over with a cute smile. "He's helping me out with this case."

He gave her a very strange look before looking at Fillmore again. "Since when do you ever need a partner?" He said scratching his mustache is slight confusion, his beady eyes narrowing. "Now that I think of it, the last time I assigned you a partner you scared him out of the job. What's with the sudden change of attitude?"

"I'm just as surprised as you are, Sir." Fillmore said with a sigh, looking up at Mr. Rodgerson. He smirked slightly at Ingrid before picking up the first case file.

"Fillmore and I are old partners from back in the day." She said with a smile, leaning back in the chair. "I was a bit stuck and needed some help. The only person I could trust was…" Her voice trailed off for a second. Trust? How could she trust this man, he broke her heart, but for some reason it didn't seem to matter so much anymore. "…Was Fillmore."

Fillmore gave her a slightly shocked look as she looked at Mr. Rodgerson, not even wanting to make eye contact with him. Mr. Anderson looked at Fillmore firmly. "But he's not an agent; he doesn't have the right skills one needs for this."

"Rodge, he went to the same college as me and took all the classes I did…he has the skills for it, he just doesn't have a job." She said, defending Fillmore which made him even more shocked. "I need him right now Rodgy, so please let him stay."

Mr. Rodgerson rolled his eyes before heading towards the exit. "Alright third, it will do for now." He said leaving the room. Suddenly, he yelled through the door. "And it's Rodgerson!"

Fillmore looked at Ingrid gently. "Do you really mean what you said, Ingrid?" He asked, one of his eye brows quirked slightly. "Do you really trust me and need me to help as much as you say you do?"

Ingrid gave him a look before going back to the files. "Come on Fillmore, we have some work to do. We'll break for lunch in a couple of hours."

Fillmore sighed and nodded, picking up on the files. Ingrid glanced up at him quickly. He was so clueless to the fact that she still liked him much more than he thought. She had tried to get over him but was never really able to; her love for him was so deep that even now, after all the rude things he had done or said, she still loved him. She sighed and went back to work, she knew what they had would never return, he was to untrusting to give her a second chance, so her love would have to remain a secret. She would have to hold it back…. For now.

**Saturday/October3rd/Year2004/12:30pm**

It was lunch time and Ingrid third and her temporary partner, Fillmore, was walking down the street to a small café and sandwich deli. She was silent for most of the walk, and so was Fillmore. There was a stale atmosphere going on between he two of them that neither could explain. A million thoughts were racing through Ingrid's mind all at once. Thoughts about Fillmore danced through her mind and heart and Deaths Silence kept popping in there too. He must know that she had the evidence she needed to unmask him, so why was she walking the streets. He said he would come after he is she got close to solving the case. What would stop him from attacking sooner rather than later?

"You seem very quiet." Said Fillmore, breaking the awkward silence between them. "Have a lot on your mind?"

She nodded and looked up at him. "I'm surprised I haven't heard from Death's Silence yet, he usually calls me or writes to me after big events. It makes me wonder what he's up too."

"Hmm… You think he's going to strike soon?" Fillmore asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

She nodded silently before talking. "But I don't really know when. And it's hard to tell when or where with such an unpredictable killer." She said, shaking her head. "If we cant intercept his next attack more innocent people will die. I am very-" Suddenly she was cut off by the sound of her cell phone in her bag. She quickly rummaged through her things and pulled out her phone. **Gregory Clark, 555-555-5555 **is what her cell phone caller id read. She did not recognize the number at all. "Fillmore, do you know who this is?"

He looked at the cell phone screen and shrugged. "I have no idea, but id picks it up anyway." He said with a look in his eye. "Who knows who it could be…?"

Ingrid nodded and pressed the talk button and speaker phone button at the same time. She had a feeling she knew who it was and if her suspicious were correct she wanted Fillmore to hear it too. "Officer Third." She said right away as she would usually do, even with anticipation running through her veins she still acted formal. There was a slight pause before a voice spoke.

"_Officer third, there's something I want you to hear…._" Said the familiar voice that plagued her mind. There was another pause, Ingrid was curious to what she was about to hear but her ears could never be prepared for what she really heard. A high pitched scream of pain and fear shrieked through the other line and out Ingrid's phone. The scream of a girl as something razor sharp slid across her skin. "Do you hear it Ingrid! Do you hear the pain and fear in the scream!"

Ingrid heart raced inside her chest, its rapid beating struck her chest so heard that she thought it could explode right from her chest. "Stop it!" She yelled, her voice fearful for the victim. "Leave her alone!"

"_What's the matter Third? Loosing your normal emotionless demeanor?_" Asked the cold and cruel voice of Death's Silence as he taunted her, the girl still screaming in the background. "_I warned you Ingrid, I told you to back down. I even gave you a little push towards what could possibly happen if you found anything out. But you kept pushing your luck, didn't you? You couldn't let one case go… I almost killed your friend, I almost killed you, and now I'm about to erase this girl from existence… And yet you keep on fighting don't you? Your persistence is irritating…._"

Fillmore was staring, jaw agape, at the phone as a loud sinister laugh echoed through the speaker. Ingrid was awestruck. This man was killing some innocent girl just because he wasn't getting his way. "Why do you have to kill someone to prove to me you mean business, I already know that anyway, you pushed me of a fucking fire escape!"

"_Temper, Third, Temper; I don't think I've ever heard you this disheartened before…"_ He said, you could tell by the note of his voice that he would be smiling. "_The reason I'm killing this girl, Ingrid, is to show to you what happens when you meddle with things that shouldn't be meddled with. To worsen the guilt I'm about to place upon you I'm going to give you a full description of this girl…Ha….She's not very tall for being nineteen, but she's a beauty. She has lovely long red hair with the most energetic green eyes I have ever seen…._"

As Death's Silence continued his tainting description you could hear pleas of help and mercy from the girl he was talking about. Ingrid glanced at Fillmore and whispered to him quickly. "Find Gregory Clarks house and stop this man…" She said, her voice trembling.

Fillmore nodded and sprinted away to find a phone booth and a phone directory with addresses in it just as Death's Silence continued his antagonizing talk. "_… She seems to live with her boyfriend and from these photos on the fireplace I figure there deeply in love… Pity there love will be cut short…._" Another crackle of laughter could be heard, soon fallowed by the crunching of glass and the whimpers of the girl. "_she's religious, there are crosses everywhere, and a Bible is resting just next to her, so she believes in all that stuff, but just because you believe in heaven doesn't make death any less scary, does it?_"

"How can you be doing this!" Demanded Ingrid, tears welding up in her eyes as she listened about what sounded like a perfect life that this man was about to destroy. She could only hope Fillmore would get there in time. "What have I ever done to you to make you want to tease me so much with your cruel antics! I've never even met you so why are all your murders meant to harm me! Ruining some perfect girl's life just because you want revenge on me! Your acting like a guy who got rejected by a girl and can't think past there big ego to se it isn't all that bad! Revenge is the lowest form of punishment!"

"_Very clever, Ingrid, you hit my problem right on… I am some guy who got rejected by a girl… The only difference is I was deranged way before the rejection, the rejection only added my problem…._" He said, his voice leaving its taunting tone to pick up a more serious one. "_Think back a ways, Ingrid… Think about what happened before you got into the crime solving crap…. What happened, and think how it might possibly click to what's happening now… Think aloud to please; I want to hear what is running through your skull…_"

Ingrid could still hear the tortured sobs of the girl so she wasn't dead yet, she had to keep him occupied so Fillmore could nail him. "…I was in college studying to be a crime investigator, after my safety patrol years my destiny was clear to me. It seemed I had all that I wanted too. I had good grades and was on my way to getting my degree; graduation was so close, I had a loving boy friend who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and a well paying part time job….Everything seemed perfect…" She said, closing her eyes as she remembered. "But then someone ended my happiness. A man named Seth Land Sice, who had this creepy thing for me, started meddling with Fillmore and my relationship… "

Ingrid felt her voice crack as tears came to her eyes. "_Continue third, I want to hear the pain in your words as you tell me this…_"

She whipped her eyes and continued. "One night, at a college dorm party, Seth forced himself upon me and…And kissed me just as Fillmore turned the corner…" She said, her voice trembling again. "Fillmore through a fit… And no matter how much I tried to explain, no matter how much I begged he wouldn't believe me… Seth had gotten his way, Fillmore broke up with me. I assume he expected me to go out with him afterward because he asked me out the next day, I rejected him with as much hate as I could possibly muster and…Wait!" She suddenly exclaimed, her eyes widening a second. She pulled out a small note pad and wrote down Death's Silences name. With the help of her photographic memory Ingrid quickly unscrambled the words to create the name Seth Land Sice. "Oh my God, you're Seth aren't you!"

There was loud laughter on the other line. "_Finally. Third, it clicked!_" He exclaimed, more laughter coming. "_Yes, I am that "creepy" guy you remember from back in the day. I am the one who caused you and Fillmore to split up, and I am also the man you rejected… After all my hard work to get him away from you, you rejected me, but I was still satisfied. No matter how hard you tried Fillmore wouldn't be with you again… I found that so rich. But rejection hit me kind of hard, and since I already was a bit crazy it didn't help much. I was walking home one day and I saw a young woman, she reminded me of you so much, I just had to fallow her. and as I watched her and her family hang out in the living room rage surged through me, I knew I had to blow some steam, so I killed them. Knowing you always get the hard cases it thought it would be fun to mess with you. I never actually expected it to get this far, I would of hoped you would have backed down. I really don't want to kill this girl._"

"Then don't kill her!" Ingrid yelled, her eyes glancing around the street. "Turn yourself in, if your as deranged as you say you are you can be helped!"

"_Don't give me that bull shit, Third."_ He said, his voice firm and angry. "_You would do anything to see me rot in jail… You caused this monstrosity, now there's no turning back! I will kill this girl right now, and as you hear her tortured screams you will be filled with guilt! Then you will know there is no sanity in trying to catch Death's Silence!_"

"Stop!" Ingrid screamed, but as she did she heard nothing. Not the scream Death's Silence promised, nor his senile laughter.

"_…. Well, well, what's this?_" He asked, his voice sounding taunting again. "_A cab just pulled up in the driveway, and your precious Fillmore just climbed out, oh and look, he has a cute little pistol… HA!_" another boom of sinister laughter came. "_I can't believe you actually sent him to find me… Did you seriously think that he would be able to take me by surprise?...Your a fool, Ingrid…. Not only will I kill this girl I'll kill him now too. Sure he'll be able to run for a little while, but with a child's weapon like a pistol and the experience of a teenager I'll be bound to take him down before he knows what hit him. We'll just play a little game of cat and mouse first, and he's the mouse_."


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm dreadfully sorry this next chapter took so long. I was at a family vacation in North Carolina for a week and was to busy to update. Though I was having a great time I was anxious to wrap up the story. This could very well be the final chapter but I'm not quite sure. I usually keep on writing until I create a paragraph worthy of being the last paragraph in the chapter… I'll decide after this chapter whether it's the end or not, because as I have said before I'm not quite certain about what I want to do. Let's just see what happens shall we? _

**Saturday/October3rd/Year2004/12:45pm**

Ingrid couldn't remember ever feeling dread as bad as she was feeling it now. As Seth hung up the phone, leaving that eerie dead tone that the phone makes, she felt her world imploding all around her. She was being smothered by her worry and terror as she rushed back to the office building to get into her car. No, she stopped; she didn't have time to get the car. Fillmore hadn't taken long to get to the house of the tortured girl, so that meant it wouldn't take her that long either, that is if her panic didn't give her a heart attack first. She rushed to the phone book she had spotted Fillmore use before he ran off and went to the phone book. Luckily for her the page was still left open to the C's and it wasn't long before she had found the Clarks address and was sprinting down the street, not bothering to apologies to anyone she bumped into.

The emotions flooding through her were mixing into one big blob of rage, it was impossible to explain in words what she felt right now, so all she managed to do was gasp for breath as she forced her legs to sprint onward to her desired destination. She was hardly looking where she was going either, just after sprinting a block she had already run into at least ten innocent bystanders and a guy on a bicycles, knocking him right off of his wheels. She glanced back to make sure he was unharmed before continuing her sprint faster than ever. She hoped she could save Fillmore, no, she was going to save Fillmore and that poor girl in time. She forced herself to keep thinking that even though her own thoughts, even to her, didn't sound at all convincing.

Suddenly, her cell phone rang again. She glanced down at it; she still had it clutched tightly in her hand from when she spoke to Seth. **Rodgerson's Cell, **read the caller ID as her monotone ring blared on. She shook her head and continued running, but soon found herself clasping from exhaustion. "DAMMIT!" She yelled, looking at her ripped leather pants. Just like an annoying fly that wont stop buzzing around your head, the phone kept ringing. She picked up the phone and breathlessly spoke into the phone. "Mr. Rodgerson... Fillmore….Death's Silence…."

"Wow, Wow, Third! Take a deep breath and calmly tell me what's going on." He said firmly, his voice worried. Ingrid never EVER called him by his real last name, so when she did he knew something serious had happened. He listened carefully as Ingrid, still in panic, told him what was happening. "Well, I'll call the police and they'll meet you down there!"

Ingrid nodded as if she were talking to him in person. "Ok, I have to go!" She said, still out of breath. She realized she was still on the pavement, and was creating quite a scene for many people had stopped to stare at her. Ignoring all of them she crammed her cell phone into her bag and stood up. She raced onward, knowing the longer she dawdled, the less chance she would have of catching Death's Silence and finding Fillmore alive.

**Saturday/October3rd/Year2004/1:15pm**

Ingrid was now standing in front of the small house in which she had been looking for. It was a one story house and was mostly brick with some white siding. She took out her small, beautiful, black pistol and slowly approached the house. The door was left ajar as she silently made her entrance, her ears ready and hoping to capture some noise that would signify that Fillmore was still alive, just out of Seth's reach. After a few seconds of waiting she heard something that she hoped was Fillmore fighting back, a gun shot fallowed by shattering glass. She moved faster, her heard pounding as she fallowed the direction of the continuing gun shots. She walked into a room and nearly walked right past the girl tied to the chair. In fact, she would have completely missed her if the girl hadn't let out a small moan from under her duct tape covered mouth.

Ingrid turned around and pointed her gun at the noise, but once she realized t was the girl she slid the gun into its coaster and approached her. The girl began to make more noise, she was obviously scared. "It's alright I'm here to help." Ingrid whispered in a low voice, not wanting to be discovered. "I'm going to take the gag off, but you must promise me you won't make even a whimper when it's off. We don't want to be found."

The girl nodded and Ingrid slowly plied the duct tape off the girls mouth, it was obviously freshly put on because it wasn't that hard to pull off, it wasn't completely clung to her flesh. The beautiful girl went by her word and stayed perfectly quiet though her hands were trembling like mad. Slowly, Ingrid untied her and quietly helped her to her feet. Ingrid took out her gun and looked at the girl. "Take this…" She said, holding out a spare pistol she always carried in her purse. "Were going to slowly walk to the door, you cover my back and I'll cover yours, and once your free and out in the open run. The police are on the way so you need to stay near by, but find someplace to hide. Understand?"

The girl nodded, taking the gun hesitantly in her hands. Ingrid smiled at the girl. "It will be ok." She said as she slowly and carefully began to walk in the direction of the door in which she came in. though the door was just in the other room it felt like the longest walk of her life. Then, the door was in view, just a few feet away from them. Ingrid glanced over her shoulder to give a quick smile to the girl, but she soon found out that even the quickest glance away was dangerous. A bullet whizzed right in front of her and through the open door.

The girl let out a tiny scream before shutting her mouth. She looked at Ingrid apologetically, but Ingrid wasn't looking at her, she was looking in front of her. Lurking in the corner of the room was Seth, his eyes looking strait into hers. Ingrid Instinctively pointed her gun at him even though he was not threatening her with anything. "Don't move!" She exclaimed, her gun quivering slightly in her hands. The figure did just that, he stood still, in fact, he was as still as death. Ingrid noticed he was leaning against the wall, his head lopped to the side slightly, his eyes rolled upward. He was dead? Ingrid looked at the door and then at the girl who was trembling even worse than before. Slowly, she took the girls hand and led her to the door, her gun still aimed perfectly at Seth. She glanced out the door and saw police cars approaching. She turned to the girl again. "Go, run to the police, I'll be right out…. Go now!"

The girl wasted no time in handing Ingrid back her gun and sprinting from the house, tears in her eyes. Ingrid watched her as she ran to the police cars that halted just in the driveway. Ingrid smiled and looked back at Seth… He wasn't there! Her eyes widened and she looked around the room. He wasn't there, not in front or behind her. She felt her pulse beet wildly. She had let her guard down, let Seth trick her into thinking he was dead, and now he was hidden somewhere in the house, waiting for her, knowing now that she was there. And what of Fillmore? She had not once seen him while rescuing the girl. She walked into a room she had not yet entered, her gun in the air and ready.

Ingrid looked around the room, but something moving in the corner caught her eye. She quickly pointed her gun in the direction of the movement but stopped suddenly. "Fillmore!" She exclaimed, moving at a run to where he was standing. He was conscious, but didn't seem to hurt.

Fillmore's eyes widened as she approached him. He tried to stand but he had a broken leg. "Ingrid, no!" He exclaimed, raising a quivering hand into the air which made Ingrid stop dead in her tracks. "Go, Ingrid, It's a trap!"

Her eyes widened, but she already had moved to soon and was too close to Fillmore. A pistol fired off from behind her, and when she quickly turned around to see the source of the attack it was too late. She let out a yell of agony as she felt the bullet enter her right shoulder, blow through her collar bone, and come to a painful stop as it jammed into her shoulder blade. She collapsed to her knees and gripped her shoulder with her left hand, letting out painful gasps of pain. The feeling was so painful, so painful that she couldn't even find it in herself to yell or curse. The only thing she fond herself doing was looking up at her attacker.

"_In my hunt for the mouse I didn't expect myself to find a canary. This must be my lucky day._" Said Seth as he slowly walked forward, his tall leather boots clomping over the blood soaked carpet. His long black hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and his entrancing crystal blue eyes leered at her with pure sinister delight. He was, actually, rather good looking, not at all what you would expect from a psycho with a lust to kill. His arms were crossed in a cocky manor, his arms hidden under his black leather jacket. "_It has been…**Such** a long time, Ingrid. Yes, very long indeed, yet, your still just as beautiful as ever. How your beauty taunts me._"

Ingrid just stared up at him, her hand trembling as it put pressure on her wound to help prevent blood flow. "_What, not happy to see me?_" He asked with a smirk, kneeling down to her level. "_No, I suppose you wouldn't be, you always loved Fillmore way more than you could ever love me… how that upsets me, but want to know what upsets me even more than that? The fact that even after your looser boyfriend, over there, believed me instead of you and dumped you, you still loved him. Even after my great scheme to break you two up worked you refused me and went on blindly loving Fillmore as if he still loved you back, just waiting for him to return to you. God, your loyalty really pisses me off… And even now I can tell you love him…How sad….How irritating._"

"What!" Demanded Fillmore, his eyes narrowing. He pulled himself to his feet, holding his weight up on his good leg while his hands gripped a desk. "You tricked me! So it was your fault, and all this time I thought….I thought… Oh my God…"

"_Oh my God is right, Fillmore._" Said Seth with a horrid grimace on his face. "_You actually believed that Ingrid, the woman who loves you more than any other human being, actually cheated on you. You jumped to conclusions and believed my little scam over the word of your girlfriend…. How horrible it must have felt, Ingrid, to have the person you love most turn away from you._"

"Stop it…." Muttered Ingrid, who had tears coming to her eyes. Her hand gripped even tighter around her wound as if to check if it was still there for the pain of her emotions was overpowering the pain of her wound. She felt like she could just explode and not give a damn about it.

Seth smirked softly, his eyes sinisterly cruel as he leered at Ingrid. He then looked to Fillmore, who was standing and trying to move towards where Seth was to attempt to hurt him. Seth merely kicked him away until he hit a wall and clasped to the floor in even more pain. "_Hmmm… Pathetic… Ingrid, how can you possibly love this man, he's so weak, and so blind._" Seth asked, shaking his head as if ashamed by Fillmore even though Ingrid knew it was all an act. "_But, you do love him, don't you? Tell me the truth Ingrid; tell me out loud so that foolish boy can feel the errors of his ways…_"

Ingrid squinted her eyes shut as hurt tears began to fall, slowly she felt herself going back in time, back to the moment when Fillmore pushed her away from him…

**Sunday/October23rd/Year2003/10:57pm ((Flashback))**

It was a fall night at the University of San Francisco, the stars were gleaming as almost every single light went out around the building, but in one of the dorm rooms a light was on. An early Halloween party had been hosted by Andréa Millers, one of the most popular girls at the university. It was a costume party, and most the girls were dressed up in scanty outfits, while the guys found themselves dressing in the goriest things possible; one guy made it look like a spoon had been shoved through his throat. One of the few who actually took Halloween seriously was Ingrid third, who did not dress up for she thought it was an insult to the holiday. Halloween was meant to be a celebration of the dead, and Ingrid treaded it that way. She refused to disgrace the holiday by dressing up in fake masks, so she simply wore a black shirt, and a black knee length skirt.

Though Ingrid was invited to this party she almost didn't go, the thought of seeing so many people she couldn't stand making fools of themselves did not appeal to her. The only think that made her want to attend was seeing her boyfriend, Fillmore. They had been dating for a while and had become quite fond of each other. Ingrid was leaning against a wall by the punch bowl waiting for Fillmore to appear, he had just took a break from dancing to the bizarre selection of music to use the restroom. She let out a sigh as her eyes moved from the crowds to the floor.

"Hey, babe." Said Fillmore as he rounded the corner, swiftly pulling her into his arms. He had a very laid back sense to him, and often did things very smoothly. That smoothness about him made Ingrid only love him more. He gave her a smirk before kissing her lightly on her pale cheek. "Miss me?"

Ingrid smirked, rolling her eyes playfully. "Not really, you were hardly gone for several minuets. It's not like I had to wait a year or something." She said in a falsely serious voice. She then managed a small smile and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course I missed you. God forbid we part for more than a few seconds."

"Hey, I sense that sarcasm, Third." He said playfully, pulling her toward the dance floor. "Come on, teach me some of that creepy dance moves you do so well."

Ingrid resisted and slid her hand out of his. "Fillmore, you know I don't dance in public." She said with a small smile. "You go ahead, just move like you're a walking corpse and you're doing it right." She managed a laugh as he rolled his eyes and made it into the dance floor. She sighed, watching him disappear into the crowd before being joined by a member of her class, Seth Land Sice.

"_Hey Ingrid._" He said in a very calm and emotionless voice. He smirked a bit, his thin lips managing a sweet smile. "_How are you doing on this fine, yet spooky, evening?"_

Ingrid acknowledged his presence, but was far to distracted by Fillmore's version of dancing to pay much attention as she spoke. "I'm fine… How about you?" She asked, glancing at him quickly trying not to be rude.

He stood a bit closer to her. "_I'm ok, I guess…"_ He said with a shrug, his eyes never once leaving hers. "_How about a dance, I think a slow song is coming up."_

Ingrid shook her head as if to hear if what he said was correct. She made eye contact with him for the first time, her left eye brow quirked in irritated curiosity. "Seth, as nice as your offer was I assume you know I have a boyfriend and will, most likely, dance with him." She said a-matter-of-factly. She looked away from him, her eyes back on Fillmore who had just fallen onto his back. She chuckled softly before talking again. "Besides, I'm not much of a dancer."

Seth shrugged again and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch a bit. "_That's alright, neither am I, but I would feel honored to dance with you, Ingrid._" He said, his voice rising to more of a firm tone as his long fingers gripped her left arm. He started to drag her onto the dance floor. "_Come on._"

At first, Ingrid took this playfully and tugged back. "Seth no, stop." She said her voice casual. But when he didn't stop she tugged harder, but his gripped remained, sending a wince of pain up her arm. "Seth, your hurting me, come on, quit it!" She finally pulled her arm away from him and took several wary steps back. She was upset that he would attempt to force a dance out of her, but what concerned her more was the fact that he was now walking back to her, his eyes not very friendly.

Seth pushed her up against the wall where she was once leaning casually, held her hands pinned to the wall with his own, and kissed her passionately on the lips. Rage and fear soared through Ingrid, she instantly put up a struggle, but Seth had her pinned against the wall, making her struggle, not only completely pointless, but wrong looking from Fillmore's angle who had just stopped dancing to find Seth and Ingrid lip locked against the wall.

Seth seemed to know it was the perfect time to break away from the kiss for when he did so, a clear view to the shocked still Fillmore was visible for Ingrid. Seth turned back to Ingrid and kissed her on her pale cheek and said. "_Catch you later darling_." Just loud enough for Fillmore to hear. And with that, he swiftly walked away, leaving Fillmore and Ingrid to stare at each other.

Ingrid could only imagine what the scene had looked like from Fillmore's angle and was the first one to break the silence. "Fillmore, it's not what it seems." She said, her voice quivering from the unpleasantness of what she just had to endure. Her face went from distressed to despair when she saw Fillmore silently turn from her and walk out the door and away from Ingrid and the party. She ran after him, but he had already started at a brisk run down the hallway. "Fillmore….STOP!"

Fillmore did so, but did not talk until Ingrid was inches from him. "Why should I, Ingrid!" He demanded, his eyes dangerously furious. His nostrils were flaring as his distraught tone grew only louder and louder. "I had suspicions about that guy for a long time; he would always stare at you in class! And now what I just saw has confirmed what I had feared!"

He went to turn away but Ingrid reached out a quivering hand and grabbed his shoulder. "No, Fillmore, it wasn't what it looked like!" She said, her voice both scared and sad. She didn't want to loose the man she loved for something that wasn't even her fault. "Seth forced himse-"

"Seth, so that's his name!" Fillmore said, a furious smirk on his face. He pulled his shoulder away from her and turned his back to her. "Well, I hope you and Seth will be happy from now on, because our relationship is over, Ingrid." And with that he walked away, leaving Ingrid motionless and crying in the hallway.

**Saturday/October3rd/Year2004/1:30pm ((Present day))**

Ingrid was sobbing now as her memories kept circling through out her mind. "Yes…I love Fillmore…" She said, her voice quivering, but not from sadness, but from anger. Slowly, she stood up, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Seth with her tearstained eyes. She pulled her pistol from her holster and aimed it at him with her good hand. "But that's not going to stop me from taking you down!"

Seth merely smirked and held the pistol he had stole from Fillmore earlier and aimed it at Fillmore. "_Think fast, Ingrid._" He said, pulling the trigger on the pistol he had aimed at Fillmore chest.

Ingrid instantly sprung into action. She dropped her gun, darted at Fillmore, and pushed him out of the way only to take the bullet herself. It went so fast that she didn't even feel the sting of the metal in her chest, the darkness came too soon. A voice yelling "INGRID!" and another gun shot were the only sounds welcoming her into the never ending darkness…

_I have decided not to end the story here. There will be another chapter that will be the final chapter. I hope for good reviews and constructive criticism. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long to write._


	6. Chapter 6

**Sunday/October4st/Year2004/9:30pm**

"Fillmore…." Ingrid's voice called out in the never ending darkness of her subconscious. Her eyes darted back and forward under her eye lids, as if searching for him, his lips mumbling out his name again. She wanted to open her eyes, but she found it impossible, as if they had been stapled shut. Without any response to her cry she wondered what had become of her and her dear Fillmore. Though she was still unconscious her voice sounded more urgent as she slowly started to come back to reality. "Fillmore?"

"I'm here, Ingrid." Said a soothing voice from somewhere around her. She felt the rough but familiar grip of someone she knew on her shoulder. His fingers ran slowly up her neck and planted themselves of her cheek where they gently rubbed, back and forward. "Wake up, Ingrid, please… I'm here with you, so please wake up…"

As Ingrid's mind slowly gained its awareness of the life outside her dark dreamland she felt a surge of pain and a flash of memories rush through her. She let out a gasp, as if the air around her was poison to her. She choked on it; her lungs had been injured in action causing every breath she took in to cause her horribly unbearable pain. Slowly, she was able to open her eyes, and when she did she found herself in a white room, connected to a bunch of machines, and surrounded by nurses and doctors in white cloaks. "… Did the white coats finally catch me?" She asked in a weak, joking voice as she tried to sit up.

A wave of relief rushed through Fillmore when his ears caught her joke, but his hopes dropped again when she let out a slam yell of agony as she tried to sit up. She landed back on the mattress of her hospital bed with a painful thump. Fillmore Instantly took her hand and rubbed it with his own. "You need to lie down for a while, ok?" Fillmore said in a soothing but sad voice. "I need to talk to the doctors quickly, don't give the nurses a hard time, ok?"

Ingrid couldn't help but roll her eyes playfully. "If I was you who…Always gave the nurses a…hard time…" She managed to say with a smile before closing her eyes and unintentionally fell into a deep sleep.

Fillmore stood up and walked out of the room with the doctor close behind him. "Cornelius Fillmore, I don't know how to tell you this in a more mild way, but Ingrid Third doesn't have a very good chance of pulling out of this alive…" The doctor said sympathetically. "The bullet wound hit her at such an angle that it shattered her rib cage, shot through her lung, and lodged itself dangerously close to the heart, we'll need to remove the bullet surgically, and that's when things get complicated."

Fillmore shook his head, his grieved eyes looking at the marble colored floor tiles. "Jesus… How good of a chance does she have?" He asked so quietly that the doctor had to lean forward to hear him.

The doctor cleared his throat and began talking. "A puncture wound to the lung is bad enough, I highly doubt that will be able to heal, so a fake lung may be necessary, that's one of the worse problems. We have a machine helping her breath right now." Explained the doctor, taking a pause before continuing. "Her shattered ribs may be puncturing other organs, but form X-rays that seems to be the least of our worries. The bullet is lodge in a main blood artery, she, at the moment, is facing horrible inner bleeding, and unless we get into surgery quickly that will kill her."

Fillmore got angry; he thought the answer was obvious. "So get her into surgery! Give her a new lung if she needs one, take that bullet out and heal and fix that blood artery! I don't understand your hesitation!" He yelled, knowing every second the doctor stalled, the closer Ingrid was to her premature demise.

"I would have done the surgery right when she came in if I was able to, but she too unstable." Said the doctor, staying calm. "She isn't getting enough air as it is, and I don't know f she would survive going under for the amount of time it would take to complete the surgery. The surgery alone could kill her!"

Fillmore supported himself by leaning on a wall, his hands on his head. His whole world was smothering him at the moment and it was hard for him to think strait. The surgery was the only way to save Ingrid, but it could kill her too. And he wouldn't be able to stand watching her suffer until she died if she didn't have the surgery. Would he ever be able to get over her death if she died without him able to apologize and thank her? "What does Ingrid want?" He asked the doctor, tears in his eyes.

"Before you were allowed to see her we asked her about it, she was pretty out of it but what she wanted was clear." The doctor awkwardly shifted his stance. "She wanted you to make the decision."

"Jesus, Ingrid, are you trying to make me miserable!" He demanded to himself out loud. He placed a hand to his eyes and thought for a few seconds. "Get her into surgery as soon as you can…" He finally decided. "I want her to live, so I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens, but if she were to die in surgery, at least she wouldn't be in pain…."

The doctor nodded and allowed him to see her quickly before they put her under for the surgery. He sat next to her as they were preparing her. "Ingrid, wake up please…." He said, his eyes worried.

Ingrid, who was still pretty out of it, looked up at him. "Fillmore, hi, tell me…" She said, letting out a cough. "Did we get that bastard?"

Fillmore smiled and took her hand. "Yes, someone rescued us…." He said with a smile. "He's dead, and out of our lives forever."

Ingrid looked disappointed. "Damn, I wanted to be the one to nail him…" She said quietly.

Fillmore chuckled sadly. "You did, you put together all the clues, you took all the risks necessary to get tot hat house and save that girl. In fact, when you told that girl to run, she came back, she was the one who shot Seth, so at least you didn't loose to the cops, eh?"

Ingrid smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." She said with a smile looking up at him. "So, am I going into surgery?" She asked, pretty confused and disoriented from all the commotion. Fillmore nodded. "Good, because that means, if you're willing to take the risk there must still be hope…" She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. "Tell me Fillmore, what's going to happen when I wake up? What path are we going to take when I'm released from this white dungeon of health?"

Ingrid hope made him smile. Fillmore stroked her hand and began talking to her as they got ready to put her under. "Well, the first thing I'm going to do when you come out of this place is take you on a trip." He said with a smile, his eyes watching her face. "We'll go to the mountains and climb to the highest peek to watch the sunset. We'll talk about how beautiful it is, and I'll hold you close in my arms and kiss you…" He saw Ingrid smile and he smiled too before continuing. "Then, I'll tell you how much I love you and propose to you as the horizon turns a beautiful scarlet color."

Ingrid smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "And I'll say yes…" She said, opening her eyes to look at him.

Fillmore smiled and gulped down his nervous tears. "And then we'll live happily ever after, partners till the very end." He said with a smile.

Just before Ingrid fell into her drugged sleep she smiled and whispered to him. "It sounds wonderful…. I love you Fillmore…" She said before falling asleep. "And I forgive you…."

Fillmore bent over and kissed her on the lips before letting a single tear run down his face and drop onto her lips. "I love you too, Ingrid." He said, before walking out of the operating room to wait for news he hopped would be good, but knew would be bad….

**Sunday/October23st/Year2004/5:00pm**

Slowly, Fillmore climbed up the steep rocks of the most challenging climb of his life. His hands gripped every stone as he rose higher and higher into the atmosphere. His heart was racing, but he wasn't about to give up. He had to reach the peak that taunted him so devilishly up ahead. He had to reach it before the sun had set. Faster he climbed, his face had a red tint to hit as he made a huge effort to climb only faster, not ever daring to slow in fear he might miss what he had promised to do.

Finally, after a desperate struggle, he was there, over looking the most beautiful view he had ever witnessed in his entire life. He was so high up he swore he could see the earths dome like structure. And silently his stood, his breath the only noise hearable as he waited patiently for the sun set.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as the sky began to turn a purple scarlet color as the day was just beginning to make way for the night. He stood on that peek alone that evening, his eyes never leaving the horizon that haunted him so much it made him sick, but this is what he had promised, he knew he had to be there, and he knew she was there with him, invisibly taunting him, tearing at his heart, keeping him company in this chilly autumn evening.

"See Ingrid, I told you…." He said softly, his voice quivering for just a moment. He slowly bent down and set an open case on a rock just close enough to the edge that it could see the whole world, but not so close it would fall. For inside that box was a beautiful ring of emeralds, the color of her eyes. Slowly, Fillmore raised himself up again, his eyes looking at the sun that was so close to vanishing. He never remembered seeing such a spectacular sight. "I told you it would be beautiful…."

_Well, there it is, a good ending, tragic, yes, but tragedy is necessary sometimes. Don't think of me as a bad person, it needed to be done. the most amazing thing, I found, when writing this last chapter was I actually cried while writing it. Movies, books, anything fictional never makes me cry, but I cried writing this. I actually had to get away from the computer for a while just to calm myself. I might just be suffering pms mood swings but I seriously did cry. But I think this ending was the best fit… Thank you for reading…._


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